Inclusive Governance & Constructive Opposition

Next Tuesday, there will be winners and there will be losers. At first glance, the winners would appear to include the victor in the presidential and congressional elections, and their supporters; the losers would appear to include the runners-up among the candidates, and their supporters.

In truth, however, the winners might include both those victorious and those unsuccessful in their electoral bids, and their respective supporters -- so long as they revisit, as we must all revisit in our country, the role of an inclusive, governing majority and a constructive opposition. Those who emerge as the voice of the majority must reach out, across the aisle, to embrace, engage, and include the opposition in the work of governing and legislating for our country. And, in turn, the opposition must serve in its vital role in a democracy in a constructive manner.

This doesn't mean that the majority shouldn't seek to enact policies and legislation, or that it shouldn't govern on the whole, in a manner that reflects its values. It should do so, with confidence, without arrogance, with civility, and with an open ear to the voices and opinions of the opposition. In other words, those in the majority would be wise to acknowledge the limitations of their mandate. Such an awareness would then lead them to lean toward the center, toward moderation, whether from their elected position to the right or to the left of the political center. To be inclusive in governance means, by consequence, to respect the mandate of the opposition, as well, and to account for its perspective when determining policy. The majority must treat the opposition with respect and must aim to learn from its wisdom, not only because the opposition reflects a constituency that could easily become the majority in the future, but, far more importantly, because to do otherwise would be to diminish the humanity and dignity, and to disregard the intelligence and fundamental worth, of those with perspectives that differ from the majority.

Likewise, a constructive opposition is not one that is oppositional intrinsically. It should oppose articulately, passionately, but, always respectfully those matters of policy with which it disagrees. It should not oppose or seek to diminish the people who voice them, believe in them, vote for them, or legislate and enforce them, for many of the same reasons.

Respectful discourse -- civility -- is the only basis upon which our government, indeed our society as a whole, might ascend yet again toward the virtues associated with intellectual honesty, among them the capacity to govern, and to be governed, from the center of the political spectrum. Respectful discourse is required not only when the camera is upon us or when the tape is running. Respectful discourse is both the prerequisite for reclaiming our public and personal appreciation of dissent and divergence of opinion and the product of it. Our near-term and long-term viability as a society will depend upon our ability to rediscover our capacity to foster and project an inclusive majority and a constructive opposition, and it all begins with respectful, but, truthful discourse. Ultimately, such discourse and, by consequence, such an orientation toward governance, can return our country to the more moderate governments, most common throughout the history of our great nation.

As the Talmudic Sages taught with regard to those disagreements of opinion that are well-intended, but, unclear in their resolution: Elu Va'Elu Divrei Elohim Chayim -- Both opinions are words of the Living God.

May our elected representatives in government, whether of the majority or the opposition, always aim to reflect a purity purpose in their efforts, and may they always remember to respect one another for aiming to do so!

Rabbi Isaac Jeret

Spiritual Leader

Congregation Ner Tamid of South Bay

http://www.nertamid.com/rabbi

Responding to Ahmadenijad

Responding to Ahmadinejad

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

September 25, 2008

Dear Friends:

The leadership of the American Muslim community, from those who head major organizations to the Imams in each and every Mosque, bear a heavy burden today. They MUST speak out against the insidious, malicious, and inciting remarks by Iran's president at the United Nations, lest they give their tacit approval to such sentiments. History has proven that silence is indeed acquiescence in situations just such as these. Moreover, the overwhelming failure on the part of Muslim leadership, the world over, to condemn Muslim violence against Jews in Israel and elsewhere and, specifically, to condemn unequivocally organized terrorism by Muslim groups, over the last eight years and prior, is utterly shameful; the Muslim community's local, regional, and national leadership -- BOTH political and religious -- now has an opportunity to redeem itself by condemning in the strongest manner Ahmadinejad's remarks.

Of course, it didn't help this cause when the majority of the rest of the world's representatives to the United Nations responded with grand applause to Ahmadinejad's remarks. However, this call is to the leadership of the AMERICAN Muslim community, hoping that, just as we Jews are willing to condemn hate and terror if and when they arise among elements of our own communities, in America, in Israel or anywhere else, they will do the same -- in this instance and forever more. Maybe then, terror and violence will seem less reasonable an alternative for the next generation of Muslims throughout the world.

May the New Year begin with the strongest voice of unequivocal opposition to and condemnation of Ahmadinejad's remarks, voiced by the American Muslim community -- on the national, regional, and local levels. May such historic remarks then bring about a change of rhetoric, toward similar condemnation, among Muslim political and religious leaders throughout the world. And, may we then, as a united Jewish community, and with great resolve, find the strength to risk embracing such unequivocal condemnation and pursue with ever-greater vigor a path of dialogue and mutual understanding, but, only with those among the Muslim community's leadership who speak or write their condemnations and opposition unequivocally, publicly, and loudly.

And, dear friends, if none of the above can be achieved, may God then bless us with even greater resolve and strength to acknowledge openly the true meaning of the silence and/or "even-handed" pseudo-condemnations among the Muslim community's leadership. May we then find the courage to withhold our support for the self-deprecating and provincially self-centered interfaith dialogue that so many of us pursue every day with local, regional, and national Muslim leaders, and which they have used, in turn, to gain and claim legitimacy in the eyes of America and to divide one Jew from another. And, may we then see with greater clarity and unanimity the need to stand with Israel evermore and steadfastly, for Israel's struggle should then be clear to all of us to be our own.

With every hope for a New Year filled with God's blessings of wisdom, clarity, conviction, courage, and strength for the entirety of our People -- and with every prayer that a change in the Muslim world -- beginning right here in America -- might allow us to work together toward a genuine and durable peace for all of us and all of humanity,

Rabbi Isaac Jeret
Spiritual Leader

(To watch Ahmadinejad's remarks, please click here: Youtube Video)

Can We Still Pray?

CAN WE STILL PRAY?

A Dilemma of Modernity and a Response

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

September 15, 2008

The High Holy Days pose for many of us in our era a great challenge of faith. In times past, when beliefs were absolute and ritual was taken most literally by many more of us, the drama of the worship experience of the High Holy Days held a sense of urgency, as our ancestors understood their very existence for the coming year to have depended upon these Services and how they engaged them. Most worshippers felt, or thought they should have felt, an awesome and humbling sense of personal and communal judgment in God's Presence. Hence, the term, "The Days of Awe," used traditionally to refer to the ten days from Rosh Hashanah through Yom Kippur.

For many Jews today, as for many faith-associating individuals throughout Western Civilization, religious identity and experience has been greatly influenced by the contemporary disciplines of the Sciences. Scientific truths and religious truths do not align, for the most part. A scientific finding is best articulated in terms of that which we do not know, as opposed to the historically religious virtue of "being certain of spiritual truths, with a perfect faith." We now know that many emotional, genetic, sociological, and psychological factors drive people to act as they do. People are not only driven by the knowledge and awareness of right and wrong or a simplistic view of good and evil that ancient religion might appear to have had us understand to be the root of all human motivation. We live today in a civilization that is blessed with the possibility of tolerance, born of a humility and uncertainty that arises from an awareness of all that we do not know, countering at once both age-old and born-again fundamentalist ideologies that prevail, even today, in certain corners of the world (and gaining power and proximity to us every day).

To be sure then, we are challenged as Jews at this time of year to make meaning of our own religious heritage, a tradition which presents in its High Holy Day liturgy a vast array of absolute ideas that seem more common to the religious criteria for truth (a perfect faith) that many of us have abandoned for the Scientific truth-criteria of our age. Consider this most familiar Judaic theme for this period of our calendar and its dissonance with so much that our scientifically influenced perceptions would encourage us to imagine: "On Rosh Hashanah we are inscribed and on Yom Kippur we are sealed (our fate for the coming year is inscribed and sealed during this period of the Jewish calendar)." If we are honest about it, how many of us believe that God listens to our prayers (with God's ears?), judges the measure of penitence in our hearts (with a gavel?), and determines our fate for the coming year (does God not have anything better to do than determine whether we catch a common cold?)? If the notion is to be proposed literally, few of us would be able to answer honestly that we so believe. If the challenge of these High Holy Days is, to some extent, to emerge with a more perfect faith, how can we do so in light of the uncertainty that under-girds the contemporary culture with which we so identify? Can we reconcile a Jewish statement of absolute faith with a world of scientific uncertainty? If not, how can our High Holy Day experience exceed a nostalgic journey to a (Jewish) world of simplistic and antiquated truths and familiar melodies, garnished with brisket, matzah balls, and tzimmis?

I would suggest, instead, that in our era, a break from the subjective and relative realities that frame our lives -- a break from the scientific lenses through which we have been trained to understand our own experience -- is exactly what might most effectively inspire our own reflection and the self-corrections that we must undertake at this time of year, both to improve our own lives and to make our world a better place. The High Holy Days do not require and do not intend for us to achieve any enduring faith in the words of their liturgy. We do not score any points with God for donning a literal belief or adhering to the metaphors for God's Being and Deeds and to the Divinely ordained destiny of our own fate as they are portrayed in our liturgy.

Rather, my dear friends, our liturgy asks of us the following: If all of the suppositions of these prayers would be factual, if God would indeed inscribe our fate, if the gates of Teshuvah (penitence) would really close at the conclusion of Yom Kippur, if Teshuvah and repair could indeed be facilitated in greater measure at this time of year than at any other, if the world of our liturgy was the world we lived in every day -- how, then, would we adjust our existence? How then would we conduct our affairs? How then would we live our lives?

Our liturgy invites us into a passionate and urgent virtual-reality in which our lives and our fate do truly hang in the balance. The more wholly we enter this drama, suspending our disbelief and experiencing its greatest power, the more whole we might emerge from it. Underneath all of the theological, psychological, and scientific progress that we've made as human beings, each of us can benefit still from a brief return to a simple world of rights and wrongs, of ultimate rather than relative accountability and responsibility, and of an urgency to repair that awaits our correction. We need this return, not because it is a return to a world of truth from a world of falsehood, but rather because a momentary return to a more simple but personally responsible world of the past might be one of the sole opportunities left to humanity to heal a world that might best remain otherwise in the uncertain and far more complicated contemporary present. Both worlds are true. Both worlds are necessary -- each in their moment.

Our High Holy Days can be for us solely and merely a return to the comfort of nostalgia. If so, however, they can serve only as a lesser opportunity for spiritual and personal growth and improvement for us, in our era, than they did so for our ancestors of eras past. Alternatively, we can utilize this sacred time to improve ourselves and the world about us, precisely by entering the drama of our liturgy -- suspending our disbelief and allowing for different truths to emerge than we know daily -- and thereby gaining perspective and motivation to awaken to one another more genuinely and compassionately at the end of this sacred journey of ten days from the start of Rosh Hashanah to the conclusion of Yom Kippur. Should we accept this challenge, then, because of the tolerance, pluralism, and humility that we can nurture in our contemporary world, we, in our era, might exceed even the greatest measure of healing and repair that our ancestors ever achieved at this time of year in eras gone by.

God asks not from us a perfect faith at the conclusion of these awesome days. Rather, God asks of us to measure for ourselves whom we must become by the conclusion of this period. To emerge from these Days of Awe as we ought, we might enter into the experience of the timeless, solemn, simple, exuberant, majestic, and very urgent prayers of our People – then and now, and always. Through the timeless genius of our Divinely gifted spiritual heritage, God blesses us with this extraordinary opportunity for renewal. May our journeys through the transformational drama of our worship lead all of us toward a destination of wholeness and deepening wisdom.

A Letter From Israel

A LETTER FROM ISRAEL

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

May 9, 2008

*Recently, Rabbi Jeret accepted an invitation to serve as the Chairman of the Rabbinic Cabinet of the American Friends of The Israel Defense Forces (FIDF). In this capacity, he visited Israel briefly last week, attending the official Memorial Day commemorations in Jerusalem and Netanya and Israel's official Independence Day celebrations in Jerusalem. Rabbi Jeret also led Memorial Services at Yad Vashem (Israel's Holocaust memorial and museum) at the dedication of its new Bridge of Hope and participated in the dedication of a synagogue and Torah-Scroll at an IDF base, in addition to several other important and inspirational engagements. While in Israel, Rabbi Jeret wrote the following message to our community ... Rabbi Jeret reflects below upon the unique lessons of Memorial Day (Yom Hazikaron) and Independence Day (Yom Ha'atzmaut) in Israel ...

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May 9, 2008 / 4 Iyar 5768

Dear Friends:

I write to you this Friday morning, May 9, 2008, after an extraordinary experience these last four days in our homeland. Indeed, the last forty-eight hours have been among the most moving and inspiring that I have ever experienced. Forty-eight hours ago, Israel began a twenty-four hour period of mourning, as it recalled each and every one of its nearly 23,000 souls, all our own brothers and sisters, who lost their lives defending Israel against those who seek its destruction or at the evil hand of terror directed against Israeli civilians. During the most recent twenty-four hours, the same country and, in many instances, the very same mothers, fathers, spouses, siblings, and children who mourned just hours earlier their inconsolable losses, joined in celebration of Israel's miraculous rebirth as a modern country, taking pride in its accomplishments in just 60 years of existence.

I've lived in Israel. I've mourned and celebrated before, during 48 hour periods quite similar to the past two days. I've visited cemeteries and lain wreathes before. I've held mothers who have lost sons and daughters to war and terror. And then, I have joined with Israel to celebrate the miracle that it represents. Yet, on this trip, the magnitude of the celebration of Israel's 60th Independence Day that followed immediately subsequent to Israel's 60th Memorial Day commemorations initially left me somewhat paralyzed in my attempt to transition from the latter to the former. Each distinct experience was magnified and complicated not only by six decades worth of remembrance and celebration, but, by the presently concurrent terror wrought by Hamas upon the innocent citizens of Sederot and Israel's entire south-southwest quadrant. Add to this the prospects of a nuclear armed Iran that threatens with annihilation this beautiful miracle of life that I gaze upon this morning from my hotel balcony, as I write to you, and the difficulty transitioning from mourning to celebration seems all the more to be the expected norm rather than the exception.

However, as I joined with our brothers and sisters over the last 24 hours -- Israelis of every color and origin, they appeared not to share my difficulty. And so, as I found my own way from mourning to celebration, I learned some things from Israel and from Israelis that might enrich us each and all, as Jews and as Americans.

To begin, let's consider that, in Israel, military cemeteries exist in almost every municipality and are often among the larger cemeteries in each city. Consider that they are overrun with citizens on Memorial Day (Yom Hazikaron). Consider that youth-groups hand out flowers and bottled water to citizens mourning loved ones, acquaintances, and even strangers, all of whom shared, in their death, one thing in common; their lives were taken because they represented the State of Israel and the Jewish People! Consider that it is hard to find a single extended family in the entire State of Israel that has not known the anguish and horror of losing a soul in the Jewish State's endeavor to shelter its children from the treachery of its neighbors. Consider the ages on the tombstones in the military cemetery, a cemetery reflecting the civilian composition and defensive purposes of both Israel's army and Israel's victims: 66, 4, 62, 38, 18, 2, 14, 19, 21, 18, 20, 18, 10, 6 months ... and this is just one row. No family is left unscathed, as Israel's future has been bled of so much of its promise, thinned by its tragic losses. The mourning is collective; the nation is, for a moment, a loving but deeply wounded family. And then, an entire country swings into celebration. A nation finds its voice in song. It revives itself in dance. The celebration is similarly collective. For a moment in time, Israel is one joyous family, basking in the light of its blessings.

Is Israel escaping its terminal sadness, simply avoiding its tragic losses? Perhaps, but, I believe otherwise; the celebration feels too real. Are Israelis simply so overwhelmed by their losses that all that they have left is the pleasure that can be derived in the present-tense of any given moment? Have they conceded to grief, so much so that they can't dare any longer to squander an opportunity for celebration with another moment's despondence? Perhaps, but, the tears of joy seem as honest and deeply drawn as the tears of sorrow; they seem to derive from the same well-spring - one rich with a history of painfully earned achievements by Jews throughout all time.

Israel's dynamic in this transition from mourning to celebration is unique indeed. Israel does not succumb to tragedy; it holds steadfastly onto life! To begin to understand this dynamic, we might consider Memorial Day and Independence Day in our own country, and how it differs from the Israeli experience. For one thing, the two days are calendared over a month apart in the United States; in Israel, they are separated by one minute. In our country, it is rare that anyone knows a veteran personally, let alone someone who gave his/her life for the safety of our country; as noted above, few Israelis can avoid knowing someone who has given his/her life for their country. In America, shopping, sales, and BBQ's mark both days; in Israel, neither day is materially oriented for the overwhelming majority of Israelis and the spiritual and emotional qualities of each day are entirely distinct.

Consider then that the very reason that Israelis celebrate their Independence with a joy that is, perhaps, rivaled only by Mardi Gras (though, Israel is much safer!) is precisely because Israelis mourn genuinely and deeply the tragic and painful losses of those who have enabled their independence as a nation to succeed and continue. Consider that a society that faces daily threats of death and destruction, and mourns the sacrifices that it makes to guard against these, celebrates intuitively, but, profoundly every breath of life.

My dear friends, my Ner Tamid family, Israel knows that life is not only worth living, but, that, when required, it is also worth dying for! Israelis have been left with no choice but to remember that every single life matters immeasurably, but, that self-sacrifice is sometimes necessary to ensure that others live onward. They know that Freedom doesn't come freely, that there is a price for Freedom and Liberty and that, if Heaven forbid it must be paid, all that is thereby retained and earned must be celebrated by those who are remain to celebrate. And, the lives preserved and freedoms sustained are indeed celebrated and lived onward in the very names and memories of those whose losses are mourned, those who gave everyone else another chance to live more life!

Yes, Patrick Henry's spirit lives on -- here in Israel, alongside David Ben-Gurion's. George Washington's spirit lives on -- here in Israel, alongside Yonatan Netanyahu's; Abraham Lincoln's, alongside Golda Meir's, and so on. To appreciate what is worth living for and to appreciate the value of life, it is necessary, from time to time, to consider what is worth our ultimate sacrifice. A free society that doesn't remember that anything is ever worth dying for is one that has forgotten the essence of that which makes life worth living. In the name of peace and freedom, we might avoid conflict, discomfort, and potential loss. For the stated sake of our children and their future, we might appease for the moment a sworn adversary to freedom. However, we must understand - as Jews and as Americans - that any society that gambles its future to secure its present is usurping Freedom's call for its own narcissistic and temporary benefits. Such a society deludes itself when it imagines that it is preserving a future for generations to come; in fact, such an approach may well lead the society to come to sacrifice its children for the momentary comfort of its parents, a cannibalistic price for an illusion of peace. Israel's grudging resolve to pay the price of Freedom today is therefore, in fact, its insurance policy for a tomorrow. Israel therefore celebrates the future, championing it in the spirit of those who have made it, and continue to make it, possible!

The reflections above, alone, might have constituted a sufficiently meaningful reminder on Israel's part for Jews, Americans, and all citizens of the Free World. However, Israelis model for all of us at least one more vitally important lesson: Israelis remind us that guilt is neither helpful nor productive when remembering those who have made the ultimate sacrifice on their behalf. Israel's alternative to guilt is sincere appreciation. Israelis feel a deep thankfulness, an enduring and eternal debt of gratitude, to those who have paid Freedom's price, on Freedom's front-line, for all of us in the Free World. Israelis celebrate Independence Day minutes after the conclusion of Memorial Day because those who paid for Israel's Freedom with their lives would demand nothing less of them -- in their memory!

And so, on Sunday, May 18^th, back home in our synagogue, we will sing and dance together. We will celebrate 60 years of the extraordinary miracle of the modern State of Israel. And, when we do so, we will be grateful for the many sacrifices that have been made by the sons and daughters of this sacred and beautiful land -- for Israel's sake, for the sake of all Jews everywhere, and to the great benefit of every Freedom-loving human being in the world; we will celebrate, with a depth of joy -- in their memory, as they would want us to do so!

With love and blessings from Israel -- Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Isaac Jeret

Spiritual Leader

SPECIAL NOTE: At Rabbi Jeret's invitation, Lt. Col. Ehud Kauf, Israel's Military Liaison to the United States Army, will join us for our ISRAEL @ 60 celebration on Sunday, May 18^th, from 5:00 PM to 8:15 PM. To learn more about our Celebration of Israel's 60^th on Sunday, please click here !

The Blessing of Blessings

THE BLESSINGS OF BLESSING

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

September 1, 2007

*Reprinted From The Palos Verdes News

Just under two and a half years ago, my son arrived home from a music class for toddlers. He was not quite two years old at the time, but he was finding such joy in all things musical that Arianna and I took a chance on enrolling him in this class, together with other children his own age. His teacher was a lovely lady with an approach to teaching music that completely captured him. He learned during his lesson on the afternoon in question to identify visually and replicate rhythmically quarter-notes, half-notes, and whole-notes.

Now, further background is necessary for you to appreciate where I'm going with this. If one looks closely enough, one notices that I happen to have a mole on my left cheek. My mother has the same mole. So does my uncle, her brother. And, while my mole is an identifiable family-trait, I'll admit that I had been somewhat self-conscious about my mole for a good many years until the day my then not-quite two year-old boy learned about musical notation toddler-style. You see, as I picked my son up to give him a hug and say hello when he walked through the door, he touched my mole and said, "Abba (Daddy, in Hebrew), a whole note!" Yes, my toddler-son took a mole that I tried only to recall and account for while shaving and turned it into a memory that will last a lifetime. Ever since that day, whenever I look into a mirror, to shave or otherwise, I no longer see a mole -- I see a whole-note!

At first consideration, one might relegate my son's confusion of my mole with a whole-note to the category of cute, perhaps adorable (well, I am the kid's Dad!). Surely, he hadn't any idea how humorous or loving his innocent mistake was. However, if one considers this a second or third time, one might conclude as I did that he was right; my mole was indeed and remains his whole note! It has since become for me what it was/is to him, and I'm the better for it!

You see, all that exists does so within the context provided for it by those who witness and experience it. My mole existed for me within the context that I provided for it. It was annoying at best. But, my son blessed me. Yes, he blessed me. He did so by sharing with me his musical context for my facial flaw. He thereby and then transformed my flaw into a beauty mark. I now recall his wondrous gaze as he identified his whole-note on my face and I feel his gentle touch of my cheek as he explored it that afternoon (and any number of times since!).

My boy's delight at his whole-note opened up for me an important gateway toward a deeper understanding and appreciation of blessing. In essence, to bless another human being is first to see their self-perceived flaws for the goodness that they bring to the world and then to share with them how their imperfections can be seen when considered in a different light. It requires a certain optimism on the blessor's part. It requires one's deliberate use of one's self, one's context for living and loving, as a tool for another's rediscovery of truths always present but distant, even invisible to the blessee. To bless another is to help her to begin, to sustain, or to affirm a different view of herself; it is to help her to see a different reflection when she looks in the mirror.

This is the essence of God's blessings to us of Jewish Wisdom, as offered through the narratives and teachings of Torah. It is the most basic way that we, as images of the Divine, can learn from and imitate the most loving attribute of our Creator: God's willingness not only to forgive, but, to help us to self-repair and to heal one another -- God's capacity and compulsion to bless!

As the Jewish calendar turns toward a New Year, repair, reconsideration, self-examination, and returning to ourselves and to one another are the themes of the day. Imagine how much farther we might journey toward our desired and requisite destinations with the supportive, nurturing, transformational, and forgiving blessings that we might receive from loved ones, friends, and colleagues. Consider the strength and hope that we might grant those whom we know and love by freeing them and strengthening them with our own blessings.

As a New Year is born, may we be blessed often, and may we bless, always.

Invocation

INVOCATION

LA County Board of Supervisors Meeting

Rabbi Isaac Jeret

August 14, 2007

God, Creator of all difference that comprises Your own image, Champion of life as an ideal and an objective among humanity, we call to You this day. We pray that You bless our country and its citizens, our state and its citizens, and our county and its citizens.

Indeed, You have blessed us to live in the age and under the sovereignty of The United States of America, humanity's greatest achievement in our endeavor to free ourselves from oppression and to release the Divine spirit within us all from the persecution of tyranny and the shackles of subjugation. God, we ask that you inspire within this body and within each and every body convened to conduct the affairs of this great nation a profound gratitude for this great blessing that we share.

Today we pray that You might grant us continued blessings of curiosity and creativity, and endow us with the virtues of compassion and humility, so that we may come to know and understand the diversity that You have created among us, so that we may strive always to appreciate one another for the uniqueness we each represent, and so that we may join together in common cause to address the problems of our day, be they local or far from our shores.

Oh God, bless our leaders and representatives, and all of those whom they lead and represent, wisdom and discernment to distinguish between freedom’s blessing as the means to great ends and its potentially devastating consequences when miscast as an end unto itself. Strengthen our leaders and representatives with a firm conviction and a clarity of purpose so that they might always serve to honor the dignity and show proper respect for the dire necessity of those who seek refuge within Liberty's embrace, as so many of us and our forbears have done so, while at the same time resisting and steadfastly declining entry to those who seek cynically to utilize the privileges of this great land to destroy Liberty itself.

Bless our troops with courage; Keep them safe and shield them from harm during wartime and bring them blessings of goodness and peace beyond it. For, they are guardians of our home-front, protecting our homes and our families at great personal sacrifice from afar, so that we might live our lives on a land beyond terror's treacherous reach. Deliver victory unto them with minimal cost, for their cause is just, and You, God, love justice and champion those who seek it beside you.

Bless all of us this day. Bless this great nation, always. Bless Your world with a true and lasting peace. Amen.

A Reflection On Teshuvah

A Reflection On Teshuvah

by Rabbi Isaac Jeret

August 29, 2005

In our Torah portion this coming Shabbat, we will read the following verse: "It was in the month of springtime that God your God brought you out of Egypt at night ." [Deuteronomy 16:1]. The Torah appears to present with certainty, and as if to make a point, that our ancestors departed Egypt at nighttime. Several weeks ago, however, we read the following verse: "On the dayafter the Passover sacrifice, the Israelites left triumphantly as the Egyptians looked on." [Numbers 33:4]. In this earlier verse, the Torah seems to teach us rather casually that the exodus from Egypt occurred during the daytime. Which teaching is correct? Did the exodus from Egypt occur at nighttime or during the day? And, presuming that one source is correct and the other is not so, how does an apparent inaccuracy on the part of the Torah in this instance reflect upon the Torah's message on the whole?

The Talmud, aiming to salvage each verse's dignity and the Torah's veracity suggests that both verses are indeed correct. The Exodus began in the evening, the Talmud suggests, and continued into the following day (in the Jewish calendar, each day begins at nightfall and lasts until the next nightfall, hence, the Exodus would still have occurred on one single day even though it began at night and continued into the daylight of the following morning). While this explanation might suffice for some, and it certainly does preserve the wholeness of the text, Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, (known as Rav Kook) the great Zionist, Kabbalist, and Mystic of the previous century, suggests that there were, in fact, two exoduses which occurred, each constituting a sequential stage in the redemption of the Jewish People. The first was the spiritual liberation of the Jewish People from the spiritual bondage caused by their enslavement. The second was the commencement of their physical journey out of Egypt and toward their future. The second could not have occurred without the first.

As I was re-reading Rav Kook's commentary last evening, it dawned on me that while the verses quoted above support his teaching they also beg for additional commentary along the lines that Rav Kook began to draw. The first stage of human redemption, the prerequisite process for any redemption to follow, must be initiated by God, as one finds that God took us out at night [Deuteronomy 16:1]. One might think that it is each human being's responsibility to reach out for help, to seek to heal one's wounds, to rectify one's errors, or to find solace for one's soul. While each of us should strive to take such spiritual responsibility, our tradition does not imagine a God who abandons either those of us who do not recognize the need for a more personal liberation or those of us whose anguish deters us from approaching the spiritual or emotional challenges of our health, our relationships, our financial circumstances, our addictions, or any other aspect of our lives, though we are greatly aware of our need to do so. God reaches out to us at nighttime with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, creating a context for our liberation from all of that which might subjugate us.

Once, however, the door is opened up for us, it is indeed our responsibility to find our way toward the subsequent stages of the inner freedom which we can earn and the practical changes to our lives which we can implement. After all, echoing the Torah's earlier verse quoted above, we can proceed with confidence on the day afterward.

As we enter our annual, sacred period of Returning -- of Teshuvah -- in anticipation of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, let us recognize that the the door is open to genuine, substantive change in our lives. The spiritual opportunity for change might consist at least of our deep and compelling recognition that such change, such liberation, is necessary. For each of us, an open door invites our journey through night - a journey pointing us toward reconsideration, responsibility, repair, andn the great celebration of renewal. And on the morning afterward, may each of us find the strength, courage, and resolve to open those doors which yet lie ahead as we journey further toward our destinations.

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Rabbi Isaac Jeret
Spiritual Leader
Congregation Ner Tamid of South Bay
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Web: www.nertamid.com/rabbi
Blog: rebisaac.blogspot.com

Twitter: rebisaac

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